


where you are, i will be

by onceuponawar



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/F, Parents!Au, Rilaya, all the aus honestly, goddess!au, hartthews, princess/body guard!au, soulmate!AU, this was my au dumping ground
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:57:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8058991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponawar/pseuds/onceuponawar
Summary: “and i’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, i’d find you and i’d choose you.”





	

“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

… 

She feels as if everything has lead to right now. Absolutely everything. It’s times like this, with her dark hair splayed across a warm pillow and her eyes just barely forcing themselves open as she caresses her knuckles gently- it’s the tiny little moments like this, where she’s nestled into her larger frame, thriving off her touch and body heat, where Maya wonders if she’s loved Riley before.

Maybe it’s because they fit like puzzle pieces, yin and yang. Maybe it’s because everything she says is right. Maybe it’s because her touch is somehow simultaneously rough and gentle and beautiful. How else could she be so perfect, except if she’d done it before?

“Hey,” Riley says, putting her chin atop Maya’s crown of blonde hair. Her words are slurred with sleep and it warms Maya’s heart a small bit.

“Hey,” she responds into the crook of her neck. She can feel Riley’s hairs begin to raise and she smiles against her soft skin.

“I’m glad we’re here.”

Maya knows she’s not talking about the bed, or the position they’re lying in exactly, though that’s a nice extension. She’s talking about them as a whole, as a pair. Maya agrees with her. She’s glad that everything they went through lead them here. There’s something comforting about the fact that Riley is her beginning and her end, even if she wasn’t quite her’s somewhere in between. 

“Yeah, Riles, me too.”

She burrows further into her warmth, her smell, her safety. Riley kisses her forehead once before her cheek rests on top of her head, fingers lightly brushing the small of her back. Then Maya drifts off into sleep with the comfort that when she awoke it’d be in the arms of someone she loved more than life itself.

… 

Maybe in one lifetime, they didn’t meet until later.

She’s seventeen, walking along the dark streets of greenwich village, scrunching her nose at all the fancy homes and nice apartments. she thinks everyone that lives here must be snobs, wanting everything to be perfectly perfect. There’s not a leaf out of place or a single piece of garbage littering the street. She does it for them, throwing a crushed soda can and a red lollipop wrapper over her shoulder with a clang. She thinks everyone that lives here must have a pretty easy life.

Then she suddenly spots an open window on one of the upper floors of the apartment right ahead of her. Girly hot pink curtains are billowing outside, alerting the entire universe that a little girl lived inside.

She thinks everyone that lives here must be really, really stupid.

Maya swings herself up the fire escape silently with ease; she has one of her own that she’d climbed quietly many times in the middle of the night. She crouches in front of the open window, peering in. The room is exactly the type she expected from this neighborhood, fluffy pillows, frilly bedsheets, everything is pink. It’s gross and she’s sure she is going to puke, but little girls are the perfect prey, they’ll usually not even scream if you ask them nicely, and there’s a pink sequin wallet lying on the vanity that seems to be calling to her.

So, as silent as Maya climbed the fire escape, she slips into the bedroom. The vanity, decorated in a bright pink lei, isn’t that far from the window. Her fingers reach the wallet just as a flashlight illuminates her figure against the wall.

Of course her first thought is: how the hell? Because she’s been absolutely silent this entire time, not even a creak as she was climbing up or a breath too loud. She’s never been caught in her entire life.

Then, as her head turns slowly to the little girl in the bed, her second thought is: holy hell. Because this girl is not so little at all, actually, she guesses they’re about the same age. Even despite her baby pink nightgown, there’s something mature about her features, arched eyebrows and beautiful chocolate eyes that don’t look a bit afraid.

It completely throws her off guard, especially when the girl- the woman-speaks.

“Are you a stranger?”

Confused and not really thinking coherently enough to be sly, she responds: “Yes?”

“Are you a stranger coming through my window?”

She nods numbly, and the girl opens her mouth to scream. Then her mind begins working and she nearly screams herself, racing across the room to cover the girl’s mouth with her hand. She’s even prettier up close. Her hair is thick and dark, falling in natural curls around her waist. her lashes are long and dark. Her eyes are dark, deep and staring. Everything about her is strangely dark in this light, clashing against the world surrounding her.

They stare at each other for a long moment before Maya’s hand lowers from her mouth slowly and she darts back out the window, forgetting the wallet entirely because those eyes were pulling her in and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

She’s eighteen and graffitiing the side of the building the dark eyed girl lives in, hoping she’ll get her attention, when they meet properly. The girl doesn’t look any different, besides the fact that the nightgown has been replaced by a pink set of sleep shirt and shorts and she’s grown into her features even more. She’s beautiful.

“I’m Riley,” the dark eyed girl says, offering her hand. She briefly wonders what Carla and Renee would think of this, but she knows, they’d call her weak. Vulnerable. Looking into this girl's eyes she realizes she doesn’t care.

“Maya.”

She’s nineteen and they’re attached at the hip, inseparable. It’s strange to some people, because she’s got this aura of mischief and anger and darkness around her like a toxic haze, but Riley is made of nothing but goodness and innocence, she’s pure; never even unfolding her hands. but they work. That’s all that matters, because she remembers what life was like before she tried to steal that sequin wallet and it wasn’t pretty. Maya’s not taking this for granted.

She’s twenty and Riley insists that she teach her how to paint. She agrees, finally, because she was given puppy eyes that she can’t resist. So she tries to teach her to paint. After half an hour she gives up, honestly, who can’t even paint a stick figure? Maya ends up placing her hand, with chipped navy paint, over Riley’s, with neat golden shellac, guiding her across the canvas in gentle strokes. They’re so close she can hear every breath she takes. They’re halfway through shading the hair when Riley turns around.

“I have a confession to make.”

“Do you now?”

“Maybe I was never really this bad at art. Maybe I just liked holding your hand.”

Maya stands still for a moment, hearing it is like the most beautiful music, but she’s not really surprised. Things always felt so right with them, it was almost unnatural how much so, it wasn’t something either of them could really ignore. So the second the shock fades she steps forward and kisses her.

She didn’t know how to love before she met Riley. Now she thinks she’s loved her for longer, an infinite amount of time that she just can’t see.

… 

Maya is wandering around central park aimlessly with a canvas tucked under her arm and a bag full of paint and brushes bouncing at her hip. She’s been like this for days, trying to get inspiration from anywhere. Every single direction, every single time, there was something she’s already painted. 

Children playing in the dewey six a.m grasses, an elderly couple walking in the mid-morning nine a.m rising sun, a small family having a picnic in the noontime hot sun, grungy teenagers playing on children’s playground equipment in the eleven p.m moonlight. She’s all but given up on this series of paintings, ready to just tell the booking that she doesn’t have a fifth piece to put up for show.

Then the clock hits five thirty and she’s so unbelievably lucky that her head turns slightly to the left before she gives up, because sitting right on the bench that caught her eye, holding a book, is a girl entirely made of gold.

The breath in her lungs is gone, but she’s painting and she can’t stop. Every hair, every curve, everything about her is gold. She’s like an angel and every time Maya looks up to make sure that she’s capturing everything perfectly, she is sure she’s going to go blind.

Every day after that she comes to the park and she sits and she waits. And every day, at five thirty, the girl turns gold. It’s Maya’s only constant, the waiting, five thirty’s golden hue. Though she knows nothing of this girl, not even her name, it feels like they’re tethered somehow.

It doesn’t make sense, but what does she care? Maya just keeps on painting the golden girl, because she knows somewhere deep down this is where she’s supposed to be. 

… 

“He’s a little shy, now, but be gentle and he’ll warm up to you.”

Maya looks at Riley, eyes brimming with tears and hands shaking. Riley takes her hand and it comforts her instantly. Together they crouch down to peer at the little boy that’s hiding behind the adoption agency woman’s legs. They’d been waiting for this moment for so long, well over a year, it seems so unreal that this perfect little child will be theirs in such a short amount of time, and it scares Maya out of her mind.

“Hey, Finn,” Riley whispers ever so gently. He peers around the woman’s legs and it takes everything in Maya to stop her heart from overflowing and letting out an inhuman noise. He might be the literal cutest thing she’s ever seen in her entire life.

He’s got gorgeous light brown skin and these small, black, tufty, curls that cover his entire head. Everything about him seems so tiny, from his button nose to stubby toes and his dark eyes are so wide and curious that it’s comical. 

Maya holds out her free hand to him, revealing a small toy subway train. Riley squeezes her fingers gently, reassuring her this this was going to be absolutely fine.

“Hey bud, a little birdy told me that you think trains are pretty cool.” He eyes the toy for a moment, his gaze flicking from the shiny plastic to this new, blue eyed woman. Then, cautiously, he lets go of the leg that he was shielding himself behind and grabs the toy from her hand, erupting in giggles as it lights up.

“What do you say, Finn?” the agency woman asks. She’s never seen him this open with people, she’s gotten used to him clinging to her leg. She backs out of the picture slowly with a small smile, so that it’s just him and his new family.

“‘Ank ‘ou,” he giggles, rolling the train across the floor. Then he turns back to the woman, wrapping his tiny arms around her knee. Maya feels tears slipping from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks unwillingly. He looks up when a tear drips on his head and his smile fades. “Doe ‘ry, doe ‘ry!” he exclaims with a head shake, his fingers bunching up the fabric of her jeans.

“Oh buddy, it’s happy tears,” she replies, her voice watery. Riley pulls her closer, rubbing Maya’s hair down gently as she stares at their little boy with dough eyes.

Their little boy. They were a family, now. The three of them. Just like it was always meant to be.

… 

Maybe, in other lifetimes, she’s pushed her away with enough force that she snapped. Maybe that’s why she can’t seem to let her go.

“Riley, I’m pushing you away because I’m not good for you anymore!”

Maya wants her to fight it. She wants her to kick and scream and say: no, because we’ve been best friends since we were seven, I can’t give up on you now. She wants her to grab her hand and look her in the eyes give her a sappy line about not giving up on the people you love. She wants her to say that she still had so much to learn about the world and that she needed Maya to help her do it. She wants her to wrap her in an embrace shamelessly in front of all these people and tell her that this was only the beginning of their lives, that if this was her world now the first person she wanted in it was her.

She wanted anything but for her to walk off that train.

Because she loved her. She knew that feelings were supposed to be complicated and confusing at her age, but they weren’t. She loved Riley Matthews, she had since they were seven. She had since she heard her singing through an open window, like a princess. 

She loved the way got jittery when she was excited and you could see her barely containing a scream. She loved the way she treated all the people around her, like they were all special in some way. She loved the way she always had so much hope in everything, making up for the lack thereof around her. She loved the way she always fought when Maya tried to shoved her away, not letting go like everyone else.

But Maya knew this time was not the same. All she’d done is push and shove and wear her down until she snapped. There was no arguing after what she yelled. There was just this agonizing silence before Riley’s simple, final word, thick with emotion: “Okay.”

Then she was gone. The best thing in Maya’s life walking out, doors shutting behind her with a slam. The best thing in her life, the only thing that ever felt right, left behind as the train zoomed forwards into a much darker tunnel.

… 

“I love you.”

She was stricken. It was so sudden, so abrupt, so sure. There was nothing intimate about this moment really, it’s mid-morning on a lazy sunday. Maya’s eyelids are drooping and she’s pouring coffee, just like every other morning that they’d lived together. 

Whoever decided that sad moments only happened when it was dark and rainy was an imbecile. Sunlight was pouring through the massive windows of their apartment, warming the entire room. Bright green plants were growing out of the hand painted pots scattered everywhere. The shuttered window in the kitchen was propped open with a small stack of old novels and birds could be heard chirping from outside in the city. 

The day promised nothing but warmth and beauty and fun, and yet here she was, choking over those three words she’d always wanted to hear, but couldn’t quite reciprocate.

“I- I think we should… stop. Us.”

“Maya wha- why? Is it what I said? Because I- I can’t tell you it’s not true, but I- we’ve been… you know… together. Really together. For a while now. And I totally didn’t mean to spring it on you like that I just-”

She’s talking fast and her tone is completely innocent and surprised and Maya’s doing everything in her power not to cry.

“That’s not-”

“We just got settled here, this place is our home now! We’ve got plants and big windows and an entire room for your painting and the best view of the city possible, but if none of that we have each other! We have plans and we’ve finally made this work and we’re happy!”

Silence. 

“W- we are happy, right?”

Maya wants to scream: Yes, yes of course I’m happy! How could I not be?! Because it’s true. These last six months with Riley have been the happiest of her entire life. Waking up every morning to the smell of her in sheets they share and being able to see her at her at her most vulnerable by just flipping to the other side of the bed. Being surrounded by that joy and hopefulness and beauty constantly, it’s an antidepressant in and of itself. 

Yet, she can’t say any of that, not a word. If she did, Riley’s face would soften and she’d take Maya’s hand and kiss her and coax her to stay. Their foreheads would rest together and Riley would gaze into her eyes with love and passion and Maya’s resolve would be broken. She can’t tell her that she has to leave because she’s happy, because she’s gotten under her skin, and if she leaves her, she won’t know how to heal. Maybe she never would. Maya’s never been the stronger one.

Riley just looks at her, trying to read what’s going on inside her head, like she’s always been able to, but there’s nothing. Whatever mask she’s put on is a good one. So her shoulders droop, her gaze all confusion and gentle hurt.

Maya says nothing, just swallows hard and stares out the window at the city scape.

… 

If they’d loved each other over infinite lifetimes, then maybe that’s why it’s so easy to pick fights sometimes. 

They know each other better than they know themselves. Maya knows exactly what gets under Riley’s skin, the weak spots that will hit her where it hurts, and Riley knows just what to say to stun Maya into silence long enough to grab a coat and race out of the house, door slamming.

Most times the fights aren’t so much physical, pulling hair or throwing things, as much as it is just screaming. Tboth know how to screech without a doubt, their neighbors must think they’re crazy with how loud they get sometimes. But the thing above all is that they’re both so stubborn, refusing to relent once they’ve formed an opinion on something. Which is an issue, because their views on ninety-five percent of things are different.

If they’d loved each other over infinite lifetimes, then maybe that’s why it was so easy to forgive each other after the arguments and fall back into each other’s arms.

When the door opens again, Riley comes racing through the kitchen in a flurry of brown hair and purple outerwear, flinging herself on top of Maya. 

“I am so sorry, Peaches.”

“I didn’t mean a single word.” They say at the same time. Neither can see the other’s face because they’re so tangled together, but they know that they’re smiling. Their voices are raspy and the door is wide open and they know they’ll have to solve their disagreement eventually, but for right now just being together, not fighting, is enough.

… 

Maybe in other lifetimes, their entire dynamic is skewed off-course in worlds that are not the ones they know.

“Hurry up, are you the best bodyguard in the kingdom or will I have to deprive you of your title?!”

She threw her hair as she turned her head back and smiled gleefully, the lowering sun outlining her frame. Maya sighed, her “knights face” fading into something more dreamy. She was in love with the princess of Havensdale. She was in love with the way she moved, tripping everywhere completely graceless but so cute you didn’t notice. She was in love with the way she looked, all soft edges and bright smiles. She was in love with the way she saw her fate of becoming queen, planning on ruling her kingdom to-be with justice, fairity and freedom.

And maybe, just maybe, the princess felt the same way about her protector.

“I’m hurrying, princess-”

“Riley!”

“Riley, Riley, sorry. It's hard to fall out of those terms as quickly as you.”

She giggled and shoved a final curtain of flower-woven vines aside, revealing a small garden of every beautiful plant she could think of, a large, glimmering tree at the center of it all. They’d stopped running. This is where Riley had meant to go.

“What is this place?” Maya asked incredulously, fingers brushing against the brightly colored petals.

“The only one in the entire kingdom my parents don’t know about,” the princess replied simply. “Take off your helmet.”

Maya yanked the shiny chain meal upwards, letting her blonde hair tumble out and down her back. Riley was the only one in the castle that knew she wasn’t a boy. Ever since she was small, being a protector of the royals had been her dream, despite what her father had always told her: a lady can't protect the royals, that is a job for the man. Her mother, on the contrary, had always spoke otherwise, that she could do anything she set her mind to, so when she came of age to be in training Maya pulled her hair into a knot, yelled until her voice was gruff and joined the ranks of young men wanting to protect the Matthews family.

The truth had been revealed to Riley one night when Maya thought she was safe in the bath on the fourth floor, but the secluded hideaway turned out to be not so hidden after all. It had been traumatic, not only was she naked in front of the princess, whom she’d managed fallen in love with over the past months, but now her most close kept secret was out to the very main person she wanted it to be kept away from. Not even mentioning the fact that she was certainly out of a job. She’d braced herself for some kind of outburst, but none had ever come. instead Riley had laughed, held out a towel and said she wanted her to be her personal guard. That she requested no less than a lady watching her back day and night.

“What are we here for, Riles? Your parents will get concerned when you're not back in the castle by sundown.”

“I know they will, but this is my only safe place from all of that. They only want to talk about how in a day’s time the throne will be handed down to me and all the things being a queen requires and it's too much all at once. I only want a minute alone with nothing but flowers and silence and the setting sun… and you.”

So they sat on an ivy-covered wooden bench and watched the sun slowly sink lower on the horizon. Maya took off her armor, each piece feeling like a large weight being lifted, mentally and physically. With the amour gone she didn't have to worry about protecting anyone, she was just Maya. And without the large dress and crown, Riley was just Riley.

Finally, when there was nothing between them, there was a long, lingering gaze held. One breath. Two, three, four. Their mouths collided.

A princess and a guard boy, who wasn't really a boy after all. It didn't sound like any fairy tale she’d ever heard, but Maya wasn't worried, fate knew what it was doing. And fate had lead her right to Riley.

… 

Maya is staring, she knows she is. And, by the gods, she knows she shouldn’t be. 

This is an official meeting of the gods and goddesses of Olympus, every pure god and goddess in attendance. This is the first time they’ve all gathered together since she was born. That was seven thousand years ago. Needless to say, the topic they’re discussing must be important. Yet here she is, staring at Riley, who she knows she should stay clear of.

Maya, being the daughter of Zeus and Nemesis, named after her grandmother, is banned from involving herself with children of Hera. With her father cheating on Hera with her mother, it was unspoken yet heard loud and clear. That would not be a smart move, to upset Hera in such a way as getting with one of her children. She was the goddess of childbirth and Maya knew nothing was scarier than an angry mother.

And, if that was not enough, Riley had no father, she was Hera’s solo birth (or one night stand with herself, if you prefer) to get back at Zeus for his incessant need to to independent and unruly and have Athena pop right out of his skull without the help of his wife. 

There are so, so many things wrong with wanting to kiss Riley. Maya will probably be smited by her father and cursed never to lay eyes on one of Hera’s children again, or worse, sent down to Earth to be mortal like her half brother Apollo.

She thinks all of it might be worth feeling Riley’s soft hair tangled between her fingers. Maya allows herself to vividly imagine their children (any two people in Olympus could have children, gods didn’t really have to abide by the same rules of childbirth mortals did), little girls and boys with her blonde hair and Riley's chocolatey brown eyes. They’d seduce every mortal in all the realms. It makes her smile.

Riley catches her staring out of the corner of her eye and Maya, thankful to finally be acknowledged, takes this time to telepathically slip her a vision, she is the goddess of illusion after all. She can see Riley’s shock as an image of little blonde haired, browned eyed gods and goddess flashes across her vision. Then the same soft smile that had passed Maya’s face not moments ago passes Riley’s perfect features.

She thinks this could work. The two of them. She’d fight for it, Nemesis wasn’t her mother for nothing. She’d reek vengeance on anyone who tried to tear them down. Then they could be together for the rest of time. The greatest love story Olympus has ever seen.

… 

As sure as the sun rises in the east, when Maya awakes, Riley’s arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling them so close their bodies are practically one. Maya lays a sleepy kiss on her collarbone before slipping out of her warm arms and into the cold air of the bedroom. Riley is a heavy sleeper, but it takes her all of five seconds to wake up after she’s gone. She’s blinking sleepily as Maya clothes herself and grabs a large garment bag from the closet.

“Morning Mrs. Matthews,” Riley says, smiling.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Maya replies softly, folding the bag over her arm. “I’ve still got a few hours of Hart left in me.”

Riley’s nose scrunches affectionately and her eyelids droop closed again. But when Maya begins to sneak out the door, she calls out again: “Where are you going so early?”

She wanders back over towards the bed, placing on hand on the soft sheets. “Brides aren’t supposed to see each other on their wedding day, you know.” 

Riley groans and leans up just enough to grab Maya’s arm and pull her back into bed. It’s dark, so Maya can’t see her face, but it doesn’t take long for her to find Riley’s lips. 

She thinks that this must be what home feels like, the way Riley hums as their lips touch, the way their arms instinctively wrap around each other, the way she just barely escapes the bed before falling asleep again to the sound of Riley’s giggles, where she touched her still burning as she drives to her mother’s house to get ready.

She thinks that this must be what home feels like, the way Riley leaves out purple daisies in the camper Maya’s getting ready in with a small note of calming attached to the rim of the vase, the way they send notes back and forth all day long. She thinks that that brunette must be home, for her to miss it from the very minute she leaves until the second she sees her again. 

The location they chose was a small, slightly overgrown, one room church in the middle of a lush green forest with flowers scattered everywhere. It’s serene and calm and beautiful, but a bit of a mystery. No one knows how far back the church dates, or who built it exactly. It’s just always been there, waiting to be found. Thinking it about it makes Maya smile, it’s an almost too perfect metaphor for their relationship.

She thinks this must be what home feels like, the way the sight of her bride in a princess dress almost makes her cry, the way her skin tingles when Riley’s fingers intertwine with her’s again, after her father and mother give her up tearfully. The way Riley pushes a piece of Maya’s hair behind her ear before they kiss and are pronounced wives, the way they laugh into the kiss and proceed to run back down the aisle hand and hand as their close friends and family cheer.

She doesn’t really remember the song they danced to afterwards outside in the garden of flowers- something about time and patience and a thousand years- but she will never forget the way she felt, with her fingers curling gently around Riley’s waist, smoothing over the silky fabric of her dress as they twirled. She will never forget when the song became slow and they leaned into each other and Maya closed her eyes thinking this- this is what they’d waited for.

For a thousand years. For a hundred lifetimes. If they have ever loved before, surely it has lead them to this life.


End file.
